


Unworthy

by Flutterbeam (aretia)



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Breakup, M/M, My First Fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4414286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aretia/pseuds/Flutterbeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard thinks he doesn't deserve to be with Jared, and takes drastic action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unworthy

Two a.m., weeks after he got fired as CEO of Pied Piper, Richard was sitting in the incubator living room starting from scratch on another app. Every idea that had bubbled up in his head had popped just as quickly because it was useless or, as was the case right now, full of bugs. He took a sip from a coffee cup that turned out to be empty. “Jared?” he muttered. Silence answered him. Right. Everyone else was out of the house at some kind of party in San Francisco. Richard had grown overly accustomed to Jared doting on him. Even now that they were an item, Jared was allowed to have his own life. Still, Richard couldn’t resist pulling out his phone and texting him, “Where are you?”

Jared replied within a minute. “Erlich and the others forgot about me at the bar. I called an Uber, so I’m fine. I’ll be home soon.”

Poor Jared. He had to put up with this kind of shit all the time. If Richard had gone, he never would have let them leave him behind. But he had to stay in and work on his stupid app, which was refusing to cooperate and stressing him out to no end. Nonetheless, he was relieved that Jared was keeping his usual positive attitude and thought everything would be okay. He put away his phone and went back to work.

Twenty minutes later, he got another text from Jared. “That Uber driver was a bit sketchy. He tried to give me a drink so I ran/walked to a bus stop. I hope the buses run this late.”

Richard knew that they didn’t. “Probably not. Do you want me to come pick you up?” He immediately regretted pressing send. He couldn’t follow through with that offer. He wanted to stay where it was warm and he could get work done, and he was paranoid about driving this late at night. Then again, Jared would do that sort of thing for him any time. Jared was completely selfless, Richard was completely selfish, and he felt obligated to help Jared the way Jared always helped him if only to assuage his guilt.

He was already pulling on his shoes and jacket and running out the front door to his car. Then he thought of the predatory Uber driver and vomited on the lawn. Okay, maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

Finally, his phone chirped. The three minutes it took for Jared to reply felt like an eternity. “No, it’s alright. I’ve been stranded before and nothing will ever be as bad as that, lol.” Relief flooded over Richard, but the guilt remained. In fact, this was something that had been gnawing at him for a while. Jared always stuck by him, and for what? He was selfish and stressed out. He loved Jared, but he didn’t have the strength to love Jared as much as he deserved to be loved. What little he knew about relationships was that they were supposed to be reciprocal, and this exchange was purely one-sided, with Jared giving everything to Richard, who was physically unable to do anything in return. He knew pieces of Jared’s broken past, but not enough to put him back together. All he ever did was take advantage of his kindness, over and over again, insensitive to the pain he must be causing. Well, he felt it now, without Jared there, all the weight of his anxiety and self-loathing that he wasn’t used to carrying by himself anymore, because he’d shoved it onto the only ray of sunshine in a town full of screw-ups.

He went inside and opened up his computer again to write an email.

To Jared Dunn.

Subject: Personal.

 _I’m sorry, Jared,_ he began. Email was the most insensitive way to convey these words, but it was also the only coherent way. He could already feel the bile rising in his throat as he imagined looking into Jared’s eyes while trying to compose these sentences. He decided to lay those doubts to the page. _I’m sorry I have to do this by email, but there’s no way I could say this to your face._

 _I’m an anxious mess and I don’t deserve you. You deserve someone who can give you as much as you give to them, and who is strong enough to support you._ He hated the converse implication of this analysis, which was that he didn’t think Jared was strong enough to support him in his times of need. He knew that wasn’t true at all. Jared would put aside his own issues and be at Richard’s side with a cup of tea, or back rubs when he vomited, or cuddles and comforting words. Maybe caring for others was his coping strategy. But Richard didn’t see that possibility, and assumed that dealing with his issues was an additional burden on Jared on top of his own.

 _These past few months with you have been the happiest of my life,_ That was true, and he wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t. He’d always had trouble holding on to the good things in life that came his way.

 _but I think maybe it’s time we should_ Okay, time to stop writing like he was back in college bullshitting an essay. Should what? _See other people?_ No, that was cliché and disgusting. He didn’t want anyone more than Jared. The problem was that he wanted Jared to have someone more than him. Someone who was more selfless, more sensitive, more worthy. He settled on _look for more suitable complements to ourselves,_ because that was the closest to what he meant.

 _So um, bye Jared._ He couldn’t believe he typed the word _um._ Or _bye_ instead of _goodbye_. But that softened it so he left it that way. He didn’t want to explicitly say _I’m breaking up with you,_ because that felt like something he couldn’t take back, and it put the agency in the wrong place—he didn’t want to break up with Jared, he was just completely helpless to be good enough for such a good person. He wanted to end the email with _I love you,_ but it seemed like mixed signals to say that now, so he deleted it.

He was overanalyzing this. Sleep deprivation and stress clouded his judgment. He knew this to be true, and yet he sent the email. He didn’t recant it when he woke up the next morning, either. He figured he could be strong for Jared by at least sticking to his decision.

 

It was dawn before a bus came and took Jared home. His phone was dead. He plugged it in at the incubator and immediately sent a text to Richard that said, “I got back safely.” Richard was probably asleep, but Jared couldn’t wait to see him, because he was a little shaken from the all-night adventure and he hadn’t a doubt that Richard would be, too. He was right, but it wasn’t in the way he expected.

The phone connected to the network after a few seconds and the email popped up. Jared was surprised that Richard had been sending business emails at 4 a.m., but then he saw that the subject line was “Personal,” whatever that meant. He opened it with some trepidation.

_I’m sorry, Jared. I’m sorry I have to do this by email, but there’s no way I could say this to your face. I’m an anxious mess and I don’t deserve you. You deserve someone who can give you as much as you give to them, and who is strong enough to support you. These past few months with you have been the happiest of my life, but I think maybe it’s time we should look for more suitable complements to ourselves. So um, bye Jared._

He reread the email several times before he understood the meaning of it, because it was so strange and unexpected. Richard’s interpretation of the situation was completely wrong. Jared did everything he did out of love, not pity. Taking care of Richard was truly the healthiest thing he could do for himself. If Richard couldn’t see that… Jared had done it again. Clung onto something he loved too tight and let it slip through his fingers.

He wanted to knock on that door and beg Richard to stay with him, but he held back. If this was what Richard wanted, he’d go along with it, because Richard’s happiness was a much higher priority to him than his own. He didn’t notice he was crying until a teardrop smeared rainbows on his phone screen.

Richard was wide awake and he could hear it sickeningly clearly, the soft sobbing in the living room. Every cell of his brain was screaming to take it back, but he didn’t even know how to deal with Jared crying for reasons unrelated to him, so he wrapped a pillow around his head and tried to go back to sleep, because he would rather be in a coma than face what he’d done.

 

They both decided to throw themselves headlong into the online dating scene. Richard didn’t have to look any farther than the beautiful, competent, and patient Monica Hall. Since they pretended that the only thing that ever stopped them from dating was working together, it was easy for him to rekindle whatever was going on at Tech Crunch Disrupt. Truthfully, what was stopping them was incompatibility, and that was still there as always. The chemistry between him and Monica might as well be called endothermic, because it was frigid if it existed at all. Nothing like the spark he felt when he looked into Jared’s electric blue eyes. But Monica was interesting, she had her life together, and she never had bad days. The support he couldn’t give was something she didn’t need, and that should have been good enough.

Jared, as the dumpee, took a little longer to get back on his feet after having the rug pulled out from under him. He did make himself a profile on every dating app under the sun. But most of the people he met were scared off by his willingness to enter into a committed relationship right away. He finally found someone even more clingy than he was, who wanted to be with him every minute of every day and texted him “I miss you” every minute that he wasn’t. Jared liked the attention; for once there was someone who wouldn’t forget about him. The problem was that the new guy, Arnold, wasn’t interesting at all. Jared was attracted to ambition, and Arnold had none of that.

Jared and Arnold went on a date in the park for their “monthiversary.” They were sitting on a bench when Monica and Richard passed by on the sidewalk. Richard and Jared locked eyes; it was their first time seeing each other in person since the breakup, since Jared had immediately moved out. Noticing the shift in Jared’s gaze, Arnold asked, “What’s up?”

“Great, my ex is here,” Jared muttered, the resentment in his voice purely an act to spare Arnold’s feelings. “Excuse me.” He stood up and stepped into Richard’s path.

Richard was dumbstruck. He had hoped that the next time he saw Jared, if ever again, he would be even more radiant and happy than he had ever seen him, basking in the love of someone more worthy of him. Instead, Jared’s face looked worried and gaunt from sleep deprivation, his posture slumped noticeably shorter than his full height, his blue eyes dull and rimmed with red circles. And the jealous side of Richard, the selfish side that he’d tried to protect him from, was glad to see it. This divide was as bad for Jared as it was for him. Richard knew that, for his part, he looked like shit. His sleep had gone back to being fitful and sweaty, and he hadn’t bothered to shave in a few days.

Monica spoke for him. She was used to playing the silver tongue for the socially awkward. “Hi, Jared. How are you?”

“I’m great. My new boyfriend and I couldn’t be happier,” he replied, loud and forced for the benefit of the boyfriend in question. Monica easily picked up on the strain in his voice; Jared was terribly uncomfortable with lying and sarcasm.

“I’ll give you two a minute,” Monica whispered, squeezing Richard’s hand—and subtly pushing him toward Jared?—and crossing the street to a café.

“Monica? Don’t leave,” he murmured, but she didn’t even glance back until she was behind the café window, where unseen she watched intently. Richard rocked back on his heels and turned to face Jared. He had no idea what to say. “That’s… good to hear. I’m glad you’re happy.” The sarcasm completely went over his head and he took Jared’s words at face value. Under his breath, he muttered, “Goddammit.”

Jared nodded. “Thanks. And you? How are you doing? With Monica?”

“Monica and I are fine. I mean, we’re, we’re good,” Richard stuttered. That was a lie and he didn’t like the heavy feeling of it hanging in the air between them. Richard leaned up to Jared and whispered, “This is completely selfish but I don’t even care anymore. I fucked up—please give me another chance—take me back—no not that, I sound like a pop song but I mean it—”

Jared glanced over his shoulder at Arnold, who was facing away from them on the bench, engrossed in a game on his phone. Then, Jared looked into Richard’s eyes and said, “I should be asking you to give me a chance. I should have asked that a long time ago. So I could explain that you were never a burden to me, or unworthy of me, or anything. I don’t understand what provoked you to think that, because you give me so much happiness and I don’t feel like myself without you. I wish you had talked to me about it instead of making such a drastic decision on your own, but we can work with that. So I feel like I should be asking you this, but if you’re asking me, then yes, of course I’ll take you back, Richard.”

Richard breathed for what felt like the first time in two months. He threw his arms around Jared and nuzzled his face into his chest. Jared’s chin brushing against the top of his head and his hands stroking his back felt perfect and natural and he finally understood. Jared loved him, and needed him, for reasons he couldn’t quite grasp because he was of the opinion that he was a useless piece of shit, but if that was true Jared probably wouldn’t be holding him like this. Maybe he could let Jared’s reassuring caresses seep into his soul. Then maybe he could start to forgive himself for the damage he’d caused both of them.

Oh, right, he could start by apologizing. “I’m sorry, Jared,” he said, echoing the words from his stupid email. Concern flashed across Jared’s face at this parallel, but Richard continued, “I’m sorry for breaking up with you. I love you and I never ever want to be away from you again.”

“I love you too. I forgive you.” Jared’s hand moved from Richard’s back to his cheek. “Can I kiss you now?” Richard nodded. Jared’s thumb tentatively tipped Richard’s chin up, and then his lips collided desperately with Richard’s. His fingers slid around to the back of Richard’s neck, entwining in the curls and pressing him deeper into the kiss. Oh, Jared was perfect. Richard melted into his touch and swore to himself that if the world had been kind enough to give him Jared, he would hold onto him with all his might from now on, and not worry about whether he was good enough, because he really didn’t get much in life that was this wonderful.

“I knew you were cheating on me, you bastard! Fuck you! We’re done!” Arnold screamed, all clingy attachment forgotten. He stood up from the bench and threw down his phone in rage, then quickly picked it up and stormed away.

Jared laughed, and kissed Richard again.

Richard would never have pulled away if it weren’t for the sound of high heels clacking behind him. Startled, he turned around to see Monica, holding a coffee and beaming for some reason? “Monica! I’m so sorry—” Richard blurted.

“Don’t worry about it. I was expecting this. To be honest, I got over my crush on you pretty quickly after I found out Jared was into you, and I was so happy when I found out you were dating. You and Jared deserve each other.”

For some reason, hearing Monica say it made it seem credible. Maybe he did deserve Jared. At the very least, Jared deserved to be with the one he wanted, and that was one thing that Richard could give him.


End file.
